Mind of a Tool (part 2)
by markofthemoros
Summary: The second part of the Tool series. Once back in Duscae, safe and sound, the guys are left to try and salvage the train wreck that is their camaraderie while still struggling towards the goal of forging the pacts with the Astrals. When nothing's the same anymore, sometimes you just need a clean slate. And sometimes you need to break something in order to put it back together again.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey guys! First of all, I want to thank you all who read through** Heart of a Tool **and left comments. It's been heart-warming to read your thoughts about it, and I hope the second part lives up to the expectations. And in case you're not familiar with HoaT, please consider reading it before reading this story.** Mind of a Tool **is the second part of my Tool series and kicks off with the events I wrapped HoaT up with, so this might be a bit of a bender if you haven't read the first part.**

 **I often add a song quote to a story to add a little spice, but this time I'm really requesting that you'd please listen to the theme song while reading this instead. I think the music adds to the reading experience nicely. Plus, the song gives a pretty good vibe about the overall mood of what Mind of a Tool is going to be: getting over it, rebonding and some genuine hurt/comfort. Also, I'll be rebuilding some of Prompto's bruised self-esteem. "It can't rain all the time."**

 **I'm intending this to eventually become one of my nicest stories up to date. But bear with me, it's not going to get too nice too fast; I pretty much tore the guys apart in HoaT, now I'll be piecing them back together again. It might take a while.**

 **I am so excited about this! I hope you'll like it, too.**

 **Beta read again by Elillierose**

 **Theme song: Broods - Free (I tried to link it here, but the FFnet really isn't friends with links. Please see the artist's VEVO on YouTube)**

* * *

All the bracing in the world couldn't have prepared Prompto to the feeling of the golden blade sinking into his flesh. A moan of pain came out muffled as the fabric distorted the noise, his teeth gritting into it. The blood trickled down his fingers, small pools forming onto the floor. There was a lot of it, his head swam a little as his lap was quickly becoming tainted. He realized he wasn't ready for this, never was, never would be. Not by his own hand. His lashes moistened up as the eyes squeezed tightly to ride out the worst of it. Each shuddering pant held remorse, each broken whimper carried over his desperation-laced frustration in muffled sobs.

The blade had raked almost half the dagger's width under his skin, but its movement had stopped. Prompto's hand had stilled. As the initial pain had escalated, his wrist, his palm, his arm lighting up with self-inflected agony as the blade marred his flesh further, tearing underneath the tattoo, that was when the urge to self-preservation had rebelled against his free will. Heart over mind. Choice over automation. Will over instinct. The blade shook along with his hand, the edge biting a little further with each tremor. But he couldn't force it to finish the job; Prompto's resolve crumbled as the pain, the blood, the fear, the disgust of this became too much. What had he done?! The flap of the severed skin peeled back disturbingly. God, he had done this to himself! What had he been thinking? He bit the fabric harder to try to keep the pained cries at bay. His insides twisted, he wanted to throw up, because of what he was doing. And because he couldn't bring himself to finish it.

Tear streaks ran down his cheeks. A part of him was afraid. So afraid and in pain. Another part of him, however, cursed his damned weakness. This was his only chance. If it wasn't for this goddamned mark, he could lead a normal life, or at least as close to normal as possible, given their situation. He could be with his friends, he would have a place. A purpose. But because of it, he would be alone forever. An outcast. A threat to everything that mattered to him. A tool of the enemy. And he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it. He couldn't do this. His fear, the urge to spare him this agony had already won. He tried to force his hand, but he couldn't help it, he was frozen in fear. Paralyzed by the pain. Overwhelmed by the action. He felt dizzy. He felt like he was suffocating. Darkness and nausea rose in him in equal amounts, pooling in his gut, rising up his esophagus. A reflex took over, made the decision for him, and the blade slid across the tile floor with a telltale clink as he sagged over, landing on all fours and dry-heaving until the overload soon swept his mind into oblivion and he sank onto the floor, the cut bleeding his life away steadily.

* * *

Ignis had never been a deep sleeper. It wasn't in his nature. He was like a guard dog, alert and easily pulled back to awareness even from slumber. That's why, when the familiar pull of eather trickled along his nerves, the adviser was almost instantly awake.

Groaning a little in half-wakeness, he pushed himself to sit on the upper bunk. Instinctively he reached for his glasses that usually rested on a nightstand or a pile of clothes, by the left, within an arm's length. This time his hand met thin air, and the awareness came back to him fully. The dormitory accommodations. The distant hum of the motors of the airship. The gleam of light from under the bathroom door. The hazel eyebrows furrowed. Someone was clearly in the bathroom. Was that what had awoken him? Most likely. But what had that whisker of magic been then? Had he been dreaming? He waited for a moment, for anything, really. Nothing. Nothing but sounds of sleepy breaths. Ready to deem it a false alarm, Ignis had almost settled back under the bedcovers when the small sound of pain and asphyxiation carried from the other side of the room.

With a sharp gasp, the adviser practically sprang to sit up again; the blanket flew off him as he peered through the darkness, towards the bathroom and the lonely source of light. He hadn't imagined that sound, he was sure of it. "Hello?" he murmured, not wanting to disturb the others. As his eyes got more used to the scarce light, he took a note of the prince's sprawled form on the bunk next to him, an arm halfway over the bedframe and head tossed to the side. And even without his eyes he could discern the deep, half-snored breaths of Gladio from the lower bunk. So that left…

"Prompto?" It was so quiet he practically mouthed the name to himself. His suspicion was confirmed when a mixed sob slightly louder than the previous one sounded, the pitch of that distinctive to the blond. To the blond in pain, to be more precise. Feeling cold suddenly, Ignis quickly climbed down from the bed. As his eyes met the sleeping form of Gladio, he considered waking the man up, but quickly decided against that. It would be an embarrassing mistake if nothing turned out to be wrong after all. But as the sounds of sobs of agony became less guarded, less suppressed and clearly distinguishable as muffled, the bad feeling he had had lit aflame.

The sound of metal clashing onto tile and a thump of something heavier had Ignis' heart skip a beat. "Prompto?" Closing the distance to the bathroom door in three long leaps, Ignis didn't bother knocking to try the handle. Locked. "Prompto, open the door," he hissed. It was returned with silence. "Prompto?!" Now openly knocking, not caring about the noise he made anymore, the adviser demanded the younger man's attention, in vain as the dull pressed wood door remained shut, sealing its secrets behind it like a vault.

The movement and the creak of bed tore the brunet's attention from the door; Gladio had sat up on the bed, a hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "The hell, Iggy…?" he muttered, not sounding angry though, merely confused. This wasn't like Ignis.

"It's Prompto. He has barricaded himself into the bathroom. I think he might be injured." That got the brute's attention. Even in the dim light, the adviser could see the surprised rise of brows and the look of bafflement. He pushed the covers off him and flung himself onto his feet, stumbling slightly in the darkness. He hissed a sharp curse as his shin hit the bedframe rather sweetly.

"Son of a… ugh! How do you know?" he muttered, sparing a glance at the sleeping beauty on the upper bunk. Noctis was mumbling something unintelligent as the subtle commotion around him cut through his sleep, pulling him to wakeness.

Ignis ignored the both of them, his attention was back on the door. "I heard him…" he paused to think of a proper word for it, "whimpering." He tried to peer under it, but the crack was so narrow that he really couldn't see anything but the dull grey dotted tile. Until he saw something that made him gasp. Into his narrow field of vision trickled a streak of blood.

The adviser was on his feet in a flash, throwing his weight against the door. He had been right! "Prompto?!" The door rattled a little but didn't break; not wasting a moment, he tried again. This time it dented.

"Hey? What the hell's goin' on, Specs?!" came Noct's half-drowsy, half-incredulous mutter. But as he took in the scene, what the other was doing and Gladio's baffled-slash-concerned expression, it registered that something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. "What're you–?" Noctis was interrupted by the sound of splintering as the door yielded, collapsing into the small space of the bathroom. Ignis stumbled after it, finding his footing before he trampled the lithe form on the floor.

On the tiles lied Prompto, his clothes and most of his right hand smeared in his own blood that was slowly pooling under the limp limb. In the corner sat Ignis' dagger, small red skid marks leading up to it from where the young man lied like a trail of evidence.

"Prompto?!" Noctis scrambled up, was jumping down as Ignis was already by the blond's side. Turning the younger man to lie on his back, the nimble fingers quickly went to check for a pulse, and he sighed in relief as he felt the beats under his fingers, still clearly distinguishable. The sharp eyes assessed the damage, and the adviser had to suppress the acid that tried to rise onto his tongue as the telltale signs of the young man doing this to himself were splayed out before him. He pushed that thought aside, though, not wanting to think about it right now. The wound was bleeding a lot. In the immediate lack of anything better, he clasped a tight hold around the wrist, trying to ignore the wet warmth seeping through his fingers.

"What happened?! What did he–?!"

"Not now, Noct. I need something to stop the bleeding with," the adviser told him sternly, fighting his voice to be that of calm despite the storm of emotions inside. The green eyes held a wish as they searched for the amber, the shield nodding his understanding. Without a word, he strode back to the bunks and grabbing the first bedcover that came to hand, he tore it up into a couple of inches wide strips. Satisfied, he ran them over to the brunet who was still clutching the wound, his own fingers mostly covered in blood already. "Thank you." Not wasting a second, Ignis begun to wrap the wound with the makeshift gauze, trying to ignore the way the crimson seeped through instantly. As the layers increased, though, the speed of the reddening slowed down, much to the adviser's relief.

Ignis tied the ends of the gauze and sat back to check his work; he sighed a heavy breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "That should hold the worst of it." The blond's ribcage rose and fell steadily if a bit shakily. His pulse had slowed down, understandably, but was still there and rather steady. He did a quick check on the young man for any other injuries, although he had a hunch that this was the only one. He had to push away the thoughts of whys and what-ifs; there would be time for them later, but now, now they had to make sure Prompto lived.

Noctis felt cold. The trembling of his hands finally registered as his finger accidentally brushed against his unclothed thigh. All he could do was watch as Ignis' hand reddened; his mind was completely blank. The sound of tearing behind him piqued his attention, but the significance of the action took time to dawn. It was like his head had been filled with nothing but fog, and the raven tried to wade through it but met nothing. As he watched the way the adviser tied the strips around his friend's wrist, heard the man saying something but couldn't bring himself to discern what exactly, it begun to dawn on him that Prompto had just tried to kill himself.

"Prom…" The whisper was barely audible, so quiet it only barely left his lips, but Ignis had heard it still. One glance at the prince's sad, lost look told the adviser enough.

"It is too early to jump to conclusions, Noct," he consoled, pushing the thought of being a hypocrite to the back of his mind. "We don't know what's going on, but right now we need to focus on stopping the bleeding. He has lost quite the amount of blood, but he'll live." Noctis was hardly listening to him, too shocked by what was presented before him. He had never imagined Prompto to do something like this, to be even capable of doing this. Then again, he had never imagined finding out all those other things about his friend, either. He felt like he was watching a stranger, a stranger who wore the face of his best friend.

"He did this to himself." It was almost a mutter. A statement, not a question. Not actual communication, a mere blurt. But Ignis nodded anyway.

"Yes. It certainly seems so. Although we shouldn't get ourselves ahead of this yet." The adviser laid a hand on his protégé's shoulder, giving it what he hoped to be a consoling squeeze. "Prompto's reasons are his own, Noct. He'll talk to us when he's ready." The younger man's look was incredulous, a cross of shocked disbelief and peeking heat.

"How can you say that?! He just tried to kill himself!" Noctis smacked the hand away, immediately regretting it as the surprised look flashed on the adviser's face. He was taking this out on Ignis now. Perfect. "Sorry," he said, sounding embarrassed.

"Noct," Gladio spoke up for the first time. He stood close, his arms crossed, a displeased look on his face. "I get it that you're worried, but lashing out ain't gonna help. Iggy's right, we don't know why this happened, so let's just focus on treating that and wait for him to open up about it." It was the voice of reason, Noctis knew, and he felt the heat rising onto his cheeks.

"Alright," he averted his eyes to hide the shame. He felt like an idiot about the way he had reacted. Ignis and Gladio must have been worried, too, but they handled it so much better.

It seemed like the bleeding had stopped, and they moved the blond back to his bunk bed, the injured hand propped over his chest to minimize the bleeding if there was still some. The blond hadn't even stirred, his mind far away. His face was relaxed, that of unconsciousness as he lied limply, the rise of his chest only barely visible. On the bed across sat Noctis, his arms propped against his knees, his chin resting on crossed hands as his gaze swept over the blond again and again, over and over returning to the haunting gauze over his wrist.

Why had this happened? He was still having a hard time believing it had. Was it because of what they had been talking about earlier? The way they had talked about it had left Noctis to understand that they were done with the subject, that it was over and dealt with. But if it wasn't because of it, then what was going on? His breath hitched as a face flashed in his mind, and a tremor ran along his spine. Had that man anything to do with this?! Was Prompto like this because of him?! A surge of electricity coursed through him, rage like wildfire spreading like an explosion. When Noctis sparked, he sparked good! He made a move to stand up, to go find that bastard with a Cheshire smile and beat the shit out of him, right now, but was held back by the flutter of blond eyebrows and a small groan. Noctis' throat tightened. "Ignis! Gladio!"

"What's up?" the shield asked, his eyes following the intense gaze of the prince. "Oh…" Ignis stepped up, too, having finished with washing the blood off the bathroom floor. They had come to the mutual conclusion that it was a sight none of them needed to see again.

Prompto's head beat like a marching band bass drum. Blood thumped in his ears heavily, and for some reason he tasted copper. Copper, and vomit. And although he was lying on something soft, his whole body seemed somehow sore, and his right hand throbbed. Slowly his memories returned to him, and he understood what it meant. He cracked his eyes open a fraction; his world was just blotches of color until, with a few slow blinks, the blotches started to take shape and features of the raven sharpened.

"Hey." Prompto tried to reply, but what came out of his throat was a strained croak that left behind a sting in his trachea; he coughed a few times, soon feeling a touch on his left shoulder that beckoned him to stay down. Blinking, the blond's gaze shifted over to Ignis, leaning over him from the other side of the bunk.

"Try not to move too much, Prompto." A small pause, and Ignis' brows furrowed a little. "How are you feeling?"

"A-" he tried, having to cough again as the words stuck to his throat. "Alright," he groaned. He was feeling far from alright, but he didn't want them to worry about him. A bit late for that, though, he understood as he read the silent question in all of their faces. It occurred to him that they knew, they had to since they were all looking kinda disturbed and he was no longer in the bathroom. Someone had tended to his wound, too, he noted, and a pang of guilt clenched his heart. "Thanks," he near-whispered, his eyes on his bandage to signal what he meant. The adviser's reply was a cut hum.

Noctis' tongue tickled with the question. 'Why.' One small word. But he held it back, nearly had to bite his cheek to hold it back. He knew it would be too soon. Much as he wanted to get his answer, he knew the blond wasn't ready. So instead he kept quiet, simply sat there.

"Here," Gladio knelt before him with a glass of water. "Drink it." Feeling the parch in his throat, Prompto's hand shook only slightly as he grabbed the glass near voraciously. The shield gave an awkward snort as he watched the young man to down it in one go. Once done, he handed it back, looking almost apologetic.

"I suggest you get some rest, Prompto." Ignis' tone wasn't a suggestion. "You lost quite an amount of blood. It will be still at least fifteen hours before we've reached Duscae." The look on the adviser's face made it clear that this wasn't a negotiable matter. Prompto opened his mouth to protest, but closed it, realizing that the man's mind was set and that nothing he could say would change that. So, he nodded quietly and relaxed himself back into the bedsheets and closed his eyes. The exhaustion caught up with him quickly, and eventually his breathing leveled into that of slumber.

Unbeknownst to Prompto, the others exchanged a meaningful look before all eyes were on him again. A disturbed silence stayed with the men even as the blond's breaths turned into light snores, signaling his sleep. What the hell had that been about?


	2. Chapter 2

"Try to get some sleep, Noct," Ignis urged him; the prince simply shook his head. Rare as it was, he couldn't even think of sleeping, not now. Not as his eyes again and again found their way to rest on Prompto's evenly rising ribcage, just to make sure he was still breathing. The adviser sighed as he gave him a look, "You lacking a good night's rest isn't going to help Prompto."

"I'll be fine."

Noct had barely moved from his spot on the other lower bunk. Gladio had agreed to change beds with him, Noctis having insisted that he wanted to keep watch on the blond, in case his state deteriorated any. The older man having had no qualm over the matter, his soft snores sounded from the upper bunk already. Ignis had tried to reason that the blond's state seemed stable and that there was no need to throw away the precious chance to sleep comfortably because of that, but it had fallen on deaf ears. It wasn't really as much that Noctis thought there'd be a decline in the gunner's state, although that was of course a possibility, how should he know, but it was more that he needed the space. He needed to think. Alone.

Perhaps he sensed that the young man wished to take a moment, for Ignis merely nodded, "Well, good night, Noct. If anything should change about his condition, do wake me up."

"Alright. G'night, Specs."

Ignis's lip tugged up a little before the man climbed back onto his upper bunk bed, and there was shuffling of bedsheets for a moment until the man had settled comfortably. Noctis wondered if Ignis would actually sleep any more than he himself would, but he appreciated the relative privacy allowed to him anyway. As the even breaths eventually filled the silence of the small room, Noctis sighed out a deep one.

He didn't understand. He had thought that they were cool, that they had made it clear that Prompto was welcomed, that the gunner didn't need to fear they'd hold these past few days against him anymore. Had he been wrong and Prompto still felt that way? Where had they gone onto the sidelines if that was the case? And at any rate, even if Prompto kept feeling unwanted, this reaction seemed too extreme. This wasn't like him.

And if this wasn't about his past, then what? He wanted to ask, the demand for the answer, for some clarity, it burned him. He glanced at the blond's face – a bit paler than usually – as if expecting him to have his eyes open and the customary cheerful look back on his face. Just his usual self, awake and responsive and normal! Not… bandaged up after cutting himself. God, he had had that belt around his arm and all! It was obvious he had meant to do this. And it burned Noctis that he couldn't fathom why?! "Shit, man…" A hand weaved through the black strands, gripping to pull a little. The sweet tingles danced along his scalp as the grip tightened almost to the point of painful.

Noctis' attention was brought back to his current ward as the blond whined in his sleep a little, and a pained expression formed on his face. "Prom?" He didn't answer, didn't wake up despite his discomfort, but his head tossed around a little. Either the pain of the wound was acting up, or the blond was dreaming vividly, Noctis didn't know but the restless look made him want to wake the man up. He reached out to tap two fingers against his cheek. "Prompto?"

The blond woke with a startled gasp, his upper body jerked off the mattress a little, the blue eyes were all over the place, frantic and frightened. His breaths came in shallow, rapid pants. Noctis felt a bit drawn back by the sheer panic in his friend's composure; whatever had riled the blond, it had riled him up good. "Dude, take it easy."

As if only just registering the other's presence, Prompto's gaze eventually landed onto the prince. "Noct…?" The frenzy in his look turned into relief, and he heaved a shuddering breath of reassurance, "Oh, thank the gods…" He held a small pause, then muttered, as if to talking to himself, "You're alive…"

The raven wasn't sure how to feel about that. In fact, he wasn't sure he was supposed to hear that. "Yeah? Aren't I usually?" Prompto's breaths were evening, he shook his head to drive off the last of the startle. "Did you dream?"

"Yeah," he almost sighed. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, then snapped it back shut again, a shy grin tugging his lips instead as he glanced at his friend again, as if to make sure he was really there. Then something clicked. "Did I wake you?" he asked a bit guiltily. Noctis brushed it off with a single head-shake.

"'Was already up."

"Oh. Right." Perhaps the blond read something between the prince's unheard-of insomnia and the air of expectation that hung around them, for he averted his gaze as if embarrassed; Noctis felt tightness in his throat at that. The silence quickly grew awkward, and the both of them noticed it. Mentally Noctis cursed; he didn't know what to say, how to say it. He wasn't good at these kinds of situations, dammit! This was more Ignis' field. But the adviser was fast asleep, and waking him up was out of the question. This wasn't rocket science, dammit, this was Prompto. This was his friend. He could handle this.

"Listen, Prom, uh…" he started, getting the other's attention. "Is there maybe something you wanna talk about?" He left it open, trusting the blond to understand. He surely did, for the sky-blue eyes widened a fraction until he fidgeted with his bound hand, trying to tug it under the bedcovers and out of sight.

"I, uh…" the gunslinger hesitated, and the prince gave him what he hoped to be an encouraging nod. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Why'd you do something like that, though? You really had us there, man," he gave a half-snort, half-chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood. It failed miserably.

Prompto's lip quivered, and when he spoke, it was intermittent, "I, I don't know. I… It was stupid, I thought… I just want to get it off," the ending faded out as his voice grew thin with shame; he hid his eyes from Noctis as moisture gathered behind them. Saying it aloud, really saying it out loud, it made it sound so morbid. So sad, almost pitiful. Pitiful and stupid.

He really hadn't thought it through, had he? Hadn't even considered the consequences. He had seen only his own want, and the utopian end result. He had all but forgotten about the in-between. Prompto felt so stupid; how ungrateful can one be?! His friends must have been worried sick, he realized. When he had done it, did it even occur to him that there would be the after? And… what if he hadn't pulled through? A shiver run down his spine; he hadn't even thought about it like that. His cheeks became heated; he had been so hell-bent, so tunnel-visioned. So… childishly stupid.

Noctis had gasped a long time ago; staring at the gunslinger wide-eyed, he thought he understood. Understood what the blond had tried to do. "So that's why…?" His own voice was close to breaking; it was soft and it was sensitive, like Noctis had feared that any noise louder than that would scare the blond back into his shell. Or worse, drive him into trying something equally reckless again.

"Sorry." The raven simply shook his head.

"I said, don't be. I just don't get it, Prom. We went over this, didn't we? You don't need to worry about that–" Noct's gaze shifted between Prompto's eyes and the wrist, "–well, any of that anymore. So why'd you try to-?" Noctis found his voice disappearing in an involuntary gulp. He couldn't say it. The words seemed to disappear as the other blue gaze became confused.

"I… I don't wanna leave." Noctis blinked, looking surprised. That really hadn't been the answer he was expecting. But Prompto had sounded so sincere, like what he said was obvious. An inconvenient truth that ripped the colors from his world, leaving behind only ashes and shadow.

"What're you talkin' about?" he chuckled humorlessly to ease his own discomfort.

"I-I can't stay with you guys if I have this. The Empire'll find us again." Prompto's voice was on the verge of breaking, laced with hopelessness. And Ignis' words from earlier came back to the raven. _'As long as Prompto is with us, the Empire is practically breathing down our neck.'_ He felt his eyes widen, his chest was tight as the implications of that dawned to him in full.

"Prompto…" Noctis had to breathe deep a couple of times, the words he was about to say making his blood pressure climb already before they left his lips, "Are you saying this's because of what Specs said?" It was a near-hiss, like it took all the prince's willpower not to snap at that thought.

"No! Well, yes. Kinda. But it's not Iggy's fault!" the blond hastily added, reading the furious look on his friend's face. "It's… it's the truth," he uttered sadly and lowered his eyes. "They already found us once. It could happen again. So I… I can't stay."

On the outside, it looked like Noctis had just simply sat there idly. Inside him, there was a storm raging. Rage. Outrage. Sympathy. Empathy. Loss. Refusal. His emotions were a swarm of bees, one coming in, another flying out; his head was too cluttered to distinguish one from another. He drew in a few breaths to calm himself.

"No."

"Huh?"

"I said, no. You're not going anywhere, Prom, and that's final." The raven fixed the gunner with a stern look. A look that made Prompto gasp. It felt like Noctis' gaze pierced him straight through, like he was holding onto his very soul with his eyes. He opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Suddenly every reason, every attempt to convince the prince that they were better off without him, they were nothing but petty excuses. Nothing, less than the air they breathed. That one look disarmed him completely. So he ended up just nodding quietly. He couldn't help his lips curving into a small, grateful smile, though. He had been hoping, of course, for a miracle. But the determination in Noct's stern eyes, it was still more than he had dared to wish for.

The young men talked for a few more minutes – about more casual things, their mood picking up a little – until a heartfelt yawn pulled the blond to relax himself back into the sheets. Silence settled into the room again, only to be disturbed by an occasional snore or shifting of bedsheets.

On the upper bunk, his back turned to the others, Ignis' wide eyes kept staring into the darkness as blood thumped in his ears like a sledgehammer.

* * *

'Well, isn't this just great,' Noctis thought angrily as he laid on his stomach on the mattress, his arms folded in front of him, face turned towards the prone form of Prompto. For the umpteenth time he took note of the breaths of the man, counted them subconsciously until he had determined them stable and even. The blanket covered him up to his nose, for which Noctis found himself to be silently happy about. He hadn't been able to stop his eyes from wandering towards the other's wrist over and over again. He had given himself a mental smack each time he had caught himself doing it, but it hadn't helped much.

He had tried to catch some sleep, too, after the blond had gone back to slumberland, but all he had been rewarded with was tossing, turning and quite a bit of lets-just-leave-it-at-that. He couldn't sleep. He was downright too pissed off to sleep.

He had been so annoyed with the ache for getting his answers earlier, but now that he thought he'd got them, well, he didn't feel much better. If anything, maybe even worse. Despite whatever Prompto had said, he was livid with the adviser. For saying something like that! Noctis thought it was absolute bullshit! Was then, was now. Except that then he hadn't needed to witness his friend bleeding on the bathroom tiles over those words. He knew, really did, that Ignis hadn't meant for anything like this to happen. It was just the man's typical, analytical self spelling out what he saw as cold, hard facts. But gods, it didn't help the young man's urge to punch him!

Prompto could have died! Noctis was now certain it hadn't been the blond's intention, a small silver-lining at least, but it could have happened. It was the fright, the thoughts of the what-ifs that fuelled his sourness. He wasn't proud of his reaction. But waking up to his most trusted busting a door to find another friend unconscious and injured on the other side… that kind of thing gets to you. The prince let out a soft grunt as he turned to lay on his side, his back towards the blond.

He was fuming. Noctis thought that if someone had splashed him with water right about now, well, not only would that person have his ass handed to him by the prince, the water would have evaporated, and with a sharp hiss at that. As his body begun to tingle with the combination of pent-up frustration and numbness, he pushed himself off the bed and headed for the door leading out of their room. He needed to get out a bit. Even if it was only for a couple of minutes and only for the distance of a couple of aisles. In his mind, he heard the adviser nagging about his reckless behavior in the face of a potential danger, but right now, Noctis almost wished that Izunia broke his promise of leaving them alone. Almost. At least then he'd have a reason to work off some steam. The prince was almost through the door already when a low voice stopped him,

"Where are you going, Noct?"

Ignis had risen halfway; propped to lean onto his elbows, he looked at the prince, the young man's back turned and a hand hovering over the door's control panel.

Noctis' temper flared but he bit back the will to snap at the tactician. "How long have you been up?" he grunted instead, his tone spiteful, indicating that he was asking more than he had been asking.

"... Long enough." Ignis' tone made it clear he confessed to the weaved-in question Noctis had been implying. "I'm… truly sorry, Noct." Ignis had laid his eyes back to his pillow; the darkness hid the slight reddening that had risen to tint his cheeks.

Noctis couldn't help snorting. "I'm not the one you need to apologize to."

Ignis looked like he was about to say something, but closed his mouth. The tactician knew that Noctis was mad, for a quite understandable reason. And to his chagrin, he couldn't deny his guilt in the matter. "I know full well." The tone piqued Noctis' interest and he almost turned to glance at the man, but caught himself in time, only the eyes darting towards the voice that had held genuine sorrow. It wasn't enough to extinguish the rage, though.

"I'm goin' out," he grunted, opening the door but he before he had time to step through, he was halted by the protest.

"Noct…" The usual demand for reason was back in the adviser's voice. The prince only turned his head to throw the brunet a sideways look. 'Well, in your face,' Noctis thought.

He was through the door almost before the grunt had reached Ignis' ears.


	3. Chapter 3

The air that puffed against his face the moment he stepped into the dimly lit corridor was stale and smelled of sweat and motor oils; Noctis' nose turned up a little. As he stomped down the tungsten flooring, he half-heartedly listened for a sound of footsteps behind him. He was partially expecting Ignis to come after him. And if he did, god, Noctis was going to give him an earful!

Or was he? The sorrowful tone of the other had been riddled with guilt; Noctis knew putting the blame on him was going too far, but it didn't lessen his anger over the matter. It was those words, really. That instigating factor that had driven the blond over the edge. Ignis just happened to give those words a face and a mouth to speak them out with.

"Argh!" He kicked the grate, the flooring making a semi-satisfying squeaking sound under the friction. His teeth grit at the friction of the rubber of his boots rubbing against the rough surface. It reminded him of the feeling of walking on gravel. Gravel, like that on Ravatogh Trail. Less than a week ago.

All of them, all they had been then, less than a week ago, it was crumbling apart. Noctis felt like he was trying to hold onto sand, his hands cupped tightly but rivulets of it still streaked out between his fingers and there was nothing he could do about that. There was a sting in his heart, and it took quite some time for him to give a name to the ache: sadness. Under the already draining adrenaline rush, there was a constant of sadness that had been hiding its presence since Ardyn had first showed up and things had taken a beeline course south. Noctis knew it would take time to undo the damage. Denying that it was there would have equaled lying to himself.

And if Noctis ever had promised himself one thing - one thing since the Niflheim invasion on Tenebrae; since the strain of maintaining the Wall had started showing in his father's demeanor - it was that he would always stay true to himself.

That conviction had never been tested so viciously as it had been over the past week.

He had wandered back to the disembarkation deck, the hollow hallway now deserted. There were narrow windows on each side of the draw bridge, and Noctis found his way to gaze outside. And what he saw stole his breath away.

It was beautiful. The first rays of daylight painted the sky with pinks and oranges as the night was forced to give way for a new breaking dawn. They were flying over snowy mountaintops, a maze of valleys and lower slopes snaking between the peaks like roots. He had only ever seen anything like it in pictures, it never snowed in Insomnia. The way the sun danced on the snowy cliffs was stunning! The remains of his anger dulled with the astonishment; he was sucked into the world of pristine beauty and light, and as the sun crept higher in the horizon, he was still gazing at it idly, his mind quiet.

Leaning his back against a freight container, one leg propped against it, he finally felt himself relax a little. His shoulders were released from their tugged-up position, his tense upper back stretched comfortably. And with the relaxation came the exhaustion. Noctis yawned deeply, small droplets of moisture pushing through his lashes. He went to rub them off quickly as he lazily pushed himself back onto his feet, arching his back a little and savoring the small pops the motion brought.

His eyes went around the open deck space in search of a clock; they found it from above the draw bridge, the flickering red digital numbers reading 07:24. Noctis groaned quietly. So technically it was too late to try to go back to sleep. Ignis would wake them up in half an hour anyway, and little as Noctis cared about humoring the man at the moment, he was sure that if he didn't respond to Ignis' prodding, the task would be referred over to Gladio, and he really wasn't in the mood for that!

Seeing no way to victory, Noctis surrendered to his fate. He wasn't particularly looking forward to going back, but he knew that he couldn't avoid it forever. His mood souring again at the thought of the tense atmosphere waiting with the others, the raven headed back. A few crew members passed him by on their way to their shift. Some of them made visible the animosity towards their commander's disagreeable passenger, but other than the dirty looks, the Lucian was left alone. 'So far Izunia has kept his end of the bargain,' Noctis thought as he reached the blast door leading into their quarters. But what would that end up costing them when the time came?

He sighed. 'It's not like we've a choice,' he reminded himself, so dwelling on it didn't help. But again, pretending it wasn't there would have been a lie. Noctis smashed his palm onto the door controls with enough force to send a small jolt up his arm. "Tch!" An irritated hiss was almost drowned under the swishing sound of the door. Shaking the ache off, and hissing a little, he stepped inside.

Ignis was sitting by Prompto's side, the blond's bandaged hand resting on his thigh. The adviser's nimble fingers had frozen mid-motion at the sound of the door, the half-way done gauze now forgotten.

"Morning, Noct!" Prompto flashed him a little exaggerated grin and flicked his good hand in a small greeting. "Uh, Noct?"

He blinked at the dark expression on his friend's face, the utterance coming out surprised and confused. Noctis looked pissed, about ready to strangle something as he stepped closer. The intense blue eyes narrowed a sliver further as his unrelenting stare bored through.

"Mornin'." Prompto felt a silent gasp leaving himself at the sound of Noct's voice. It was a grunt. And the soft start he felt on his bound hand told him that it hadn't been aimed at him.

"Good morning, Your Highness." Prompto's jaw slacked a little at the detached, formal tone. Ignis had forced his hands back to work, the fingers lacing the gauze back onto his wound carefully like he was a neurosurgeon performing a most delicate procedure, and although the subtle tremble in them wasn't really noticeable, Prompto could feel it as his fingers brushed his hand. Then there was the even-more-stuck-up-than-usual tone and the way the strategist kept his eyes glued onto his task… Prompto's eyebrows furrowed and he glanced back at Noct with a questioning look. The prince had sat onto his bunk, glaring daggers at the other's shoulder intently as if he was trying to force the man to look at him with his eyes alone.

"Uhm…?" the blond started, but it was Gladio who really broke the silence.

Sat up on his bed, shirtless and a towel swung over his shoulders, the bodyguard had observed the weird pantomime scene unfolding before him. With audible incredulousness in his voice, the dark man almost sneered, "So did I miss something, or did something happen last night?" He held a small pause and let his gaze go them over, "What the hell's the matter with you two?"

Noct snorted, crossing his arms and a scowl on his face, "You're actually asking?" There was challenge in his tone Gladio didn't rise up to.

"Yeah. I am. Care to explain why ya're acting like there's something up yours?" he demanded, his tone patient but making it clear the brute wanted answers.

"You know, there just might be," he drawled, faking casualness but not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. And only taking his eyes from the adviser for long enough to glance at Gladio.

"What's going on, Noct?" Prompto asked with a hint of demand in his tone. Heaven knew Noct could be difficult when angry, but now he was just beating around the bush. "C'mon, man. Don't be like that."

"The matter at hand is, Gladio, that Noct is being huffy with me, over a matter that… came up last night," Ignis huffed, with avoidance in his tone that hinted the other to leave it at that. Noctis snorted.

"Well, that's one way to put it," he bit. Both Prompto and Gladio raised an eyebrow at the boyking's behavior.

"Iggy?" Gladio's tone held confusion.

Ignis had remained unresponsive, but apparently that wasn't quite working as he had hoped it would. Apparently Noctis wanted to deal with this openly and he wanted to deal with this now. And, also apparently, his unwillingness was just making this more difficult, and with everyone's attention now brought onto him, Ignis knew he had been cornered. He had to say something. Noct wouldn't let him live it down if he didn't. Plus, Ignis sighed, he owed that to Prompto. But he didn't know where to start! For once in his life, the adviser couldn't find the words. It felt like there was an iron band around his chest, squeezing tighter and tighter with every exhale.

"Iggy?" The said man's lips were a tight line at Gladio's prodding tone. It had been so… kind. Prodding, yes, but in an encouraging way. Gods, the man could read him almost too well at times! Ignis felt like he didn't deserve kindness. Noct's rage, yes, although the childish brooding the prince was presenting did grate on his nerves. And Prompto's accusations, those he had coming, should there be any. But not their gentleness. He was at fault; he… he wasn't supposed to be comforted about that! It felt like he was reaping sympathy on false grounds.

Lying.

And all of this mess had been about someone lying. Or not telling everything, at least. It would end here, Ignis thought. That curtain of deceit would end here. "It appears that I owe you an apology, Prompto," he finally said, his usually collected tone now soft with guilt; the emerald hardly wavered as he finally lifted his head to look Prompto in the eye. "If I have caused you anything that made you feel you needed to do something like this," he touched the bandages carefully, "–for that, I am sorry."

The silence that settled in the room was dumbstruck. Whatever Gladio had been expecting to hear, well, it wasn't this. His jaw hung a bit slack as he leaned over far enough to be able to let his gaze travel from the unnaturally vulnerable-looking and a bit sorrowful face of Ignis' to the awestruck one of Prompto's.

The gunslinger was gaping, his eyes a bit wider. His mind had halted for a moment, but as he felt the lingering fingers over his wound, it spurred back to life, now reeling, piecing together clues. "N-no, Iggy… It's not like that. Wha-whatever gave you that idea?" the blond semi-spurted, aiming for casual, but only coming out as awkward and uncomfortable.

Ignis nodded solemnly, "I'm afraid I must confess I heard you and Noct talking."

"Oh…" the sky-blue widened as he realized exactly which conversation the brunet meant; he felt his cheeks heating. That explained a lot: Noct's rage, the gravity with which Ignis had tended to his wound just now… His mouth ran dry at the remembrance, at the understanding. Sweet Tidemother, the things he had said…! And Ignis had heard them…! "No, Iggy. You've got it all wrong..." he started, but the tactician raised a hand to silence him.

"Please, Prompto, let me finish." He waited for the younger man to indicate that he was listening and wasn't going to interrupt him, and then went on, "When I said that, I never intended that you were to be separated from us, Prompto, in any way. It was merely to note that from hereon it is something that we cannot afford to overlook. I'm truly sorry. I should have worded my intentions better." On the upper bed, Gladio made a sound of understanding as what was going on was painted before him in painfully intricate detail. Ignis ignored it; he had one more thing to say, the most important thing. And simultaneously the thing he wanted to voice the least. His chest was tight; the iron band was crushing him! "What happened was my fault. Can you forgive me?" The soft emeralds were half-lidded, shifting on and off the sky-blue like it was suddenly difficult to hold the gaze.

Prompto looked like he'd been struck by a lightning bolt. He looked at Ignis like he had seen someone else. The other's mien was apologetic, almost vulnerable. Surrendered somehow, and Prompto realized he was expecting to be lashed at. "Ignis…" He gulped quietly before adding, "It's, it's fine. It wasn't your fault," he all but blabbered, his good hand raising to scratched his hairline on his neck. The adviser sighed deep.

"Although I didn't force your hand myself, I am still at blame. I said some careless things and you have every right to be upset."

There was a silence. A silence where Prompto just looked at him, at the sincerity on the tactician's normally stoic face. "No, man," he stated quietly, shaking his head. "It wasn't your fault. What you said, well, it's the truth. I've thought about it myself, to be honest," he went on, his eyes on their hands, Ignis' fingers no longer touching him but close to his arm nonetheless. "Just because you said it out loud first doesn't make it your fault."

"Prompto…" came Noctis' awestruck utterance; the said man glanced at him, a sad smile over his features.

"'Twas stupid of me, alright? I guess I kinda scared you guys, huh?" the gunner spoke wholeheartedly, his raw thoughts, unfiltered and honest. "But there's nothing to forgive. I hope… I hope you guys can forgive me?" his voice rose at the end, almost hitching, and Prompto cast his eyes back to the mattress. A slight pink tint had risen onto his face.

Filled silence descended over them again. Prompto fingered his bindings absentmindedly, his eyes downcast. Ignis sat frozen, leaning onto his left elbow resting on his lap. The collected facade was back on, but the deep breaths spoke of reached redemption.

A boulder had been lifted off Ignis' chest, the iron band gone. His previously grit teeth loosened up, the anticipation quickly turning into empathy towards the gunner. Prompto was a good person. A kind person. Ignis found himself pitying the young man, for the burden sentenced to him at birth. Prompto didn't deserve it.

"Thank you."

"Glad to oblige," Prompto smirked, smacking the strategist to the shoulder playfully with his left hand. "So, we cool?"

Ignis offered him a content smile. "Yes. Yes, we certainly are."

"Well, glad to have that one dealt with," Noctis tossed out casually but unable to hide the satisfaction from his voice as he stretched and leaned himself against the bedframe, hands crossed behind his head.

"Heh, yeah. So, you guys about done with clearing the air?" Gladio chuckled with audible humor. "Or does the kid have to slit his other wrist, too?" he smirked, winking. That earned him a couple of incredulous cough-slash-gasps and open-mouthed stares that screamed are-you-kidding-me before a quiet laughter broke the stupor. It was Prompto. And he was chuckling, honestly, heartily chuckling at that. Ignis was the next to follow, a couple of hummed chuckles leaving him, too. Soon they were all laughing at the morbid words that had held the seeds of truth but hopefully would never be needed again.

* * *

Two guards, one male, one female, had brought them breakfast some time later. Or at least that's what they had assumed the comestibles presented to them to be; the guards had been indifferent to their requests regarding the contents of their meal. It was clear the crew didn't share Izunia's gusto of having them on board. Especially the lady soldier hadn't spared a few dirty glances from being thrown in the direction of the prince, but probably under orders, the both of them remained short of words and made a quick haste to leave once their task was completed. And the men were left with two trayfuls of what looked like porridge and bread rolls, and then there were what they could only assume to be some assorted cold cuts.

"So, what do you think this is?" Prompto poked at a dark brown, dried chunk of meat with a fork, having no intention of actually eating it. The culinarist bent closer to sniff at it, and a look of appreciation flashed over his face.

"An educated guess would be that it is some sort of dried game meat, given the color and the structure." He snatched a little mouthful, tasting the strong wooden aroma and hints of earth in the meat. Not too impressive, but edible. "I'd say some kind of hog animal."

"Whatever it is, I'm not touchin' it," Noctis declared, a degree of repulsion in his voice as he eyed the food with prejudice, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You should have something," Gladio suggested, motioning towards the porridge that was still steaming, "We should still have some hours of flight left, and who knows when we'll get the next chance to eat." As if on cue, the raven's stomach made a prolonged grumbling sound, and Noctis clutched his arms around his middle in a useless attempt to silence it. He hadn't even realized how hungry he was. He couldn't even remember when he had last eaten. When he had been held in that luxurious prison, a dinner had been brought to him. Which he had refused then, too, having not felt like eating at the moment, for quite obvious reasons. The last meal must have been ages ago! Grumbling on par with his stomach, he grabbed a bowl from the tray and after giving the porridge one more once-over, started scooping it up. Ignis gave a soft chuckle and shook his head.

"To live to see the day His Highness eats porridge willingly…" Noctis shot him a glare, but it didn't stop him from scooping more into his bowl.

"Maybe leave some of that to the rest of us, Noct," Prompto noted hastily, eyeing the rest of the food suspiciously. He went to grab a bowl of his own, hurrying to be the second to dig into only familiar-looking item available.

"You two are too prejudiced," Ignis smirked. "Just because it's foreign, it doesn't mean that it's any less- phye!" he was interrupted to spit something from his mouth; a gloved hand went to wipe off the foul taste. "So perhaps some of it isn't suitable as human sustenance after all," he grumbled under his breath.

"See?" Noctis smirked, tipping his spoon at the man before starting to devour his food. The adviser threw him a glare.

The men all but gobbled up the bread rolls, and Gladio dared to help himself to some meats, too, but no-one had enough to call it a fulfilling meal. Still, it was better than nothing, and as the trays were retrieved something like an hour later, everyone felt at least somewhat content.

It was four hours later that Ardyn sent to summon them, this time with the news the men had been aching to hear since stepping on board their disagreeable ride: they were about to land.

Now standing on the sunlit bridge, the glass paneling offering a perfect view over the familiar landscape of Lucis, Noctis couldn't help his heart fluttering a little. They were home! After all that horror, they were finally back. A small smile tugged his lips upwards. If only it wasn't for one particularly pompous cloud on their skies…

Ardyn had his back to them, his hands clasped casually behind his back; he had kept up the illusion of obliviousness until the escort had announced them. When the man had turned, the cunning smile was firmly back on as he gave them all a once-over. "Prince Noctis. I hope you slept well?" The said man didn't bother hiding his spite; the tone had indicated that the bastard knew exactly how well their night had been spent and was now rubbing it into their faces. The smile stretched an inkling wider as the amber caught the gauzes on the gunner's arm. "Oh? Did you break the tool?"

Prompto's teeth grit into a visible snarl and he was quick to pull his hand behind his back; Noctis' face mirrored the look of his friend's at the sparkle of enjoyment the blond's fidgeting brought into the amber eyes. "You arrogant sonofa-" Noctis was interrupted by a firm jerk on his shoulder; Ignis pushed by him sternly, placing himself somewhat in front of his protégé. He had to push back his reaction to the despicable taunt; he couldn't afford to be pulled into the Chancellor's games. The adviser ignored Noct's quiet protests and kept his attention trained on the mauve-haired menace.

"Chancellor," he called out, his voice headstrong. "You have led us to believe that you'd offer us a vehicle once we've landed." He let the implication open, expecting a reaction. Anything to draw Izunia's attention from Prompto, really. It was obvious that the immortal saw right through his attempt, and Ignis wished he was a little better at mindgames, blasted! But it seemed that Ardyn would humor him nevertheless.

"Indeed. In the wake of our… encounter, I took the liberty to collect your car to safer custody. Namely, my own."

"You mean the Regalia?! She's here?!" Ignis demanded.

"She is, a token of my appreciation, shall we say? These dropships have outstanding freight qualities, you know."

"Show us," Noctis bit out, crossing his arms.

Ardyn Izunia practically purred when he said, "Follow me."

* * *

"Whoa! Can you believe this, Noct?! The ol' girl's just the way we left her," Prompto cheered, momentarily forgetting that Izunia's was watching as the young men dashed to check the car up for any bumps or cracks.

"Not quite," Gladio noted as-a-matter-of-factly. He pointed his thumb at a nasty-looking scrape on the right hand side front door. The metal had been cut through, the sharp razor edges curled upwards. "What idiot did this?" his brows drew closer together, the words aimed at Izunia; the vague shrug that was his reply was dripping nonchalance.

"Aww, man! Cindy's gonna have our heads for this!" Prompto whined. "I bet she'll-ugh! Hey! What the hell was that fo-?!" The blazing look in Ignis' eyes warned him from saying any more. His look said, 'You don't want to get her involved in this', and only then did Prompto notice that mentioning the woman's name had raised Izunia's unobscured interest.

"Intriguing. Tell me, tool, who would this Ms. Cindy be?" the older man asked sweetly. Prompto felt the rush of blood onto his cheeks that wasn't entirely due to the tempting way the man had said Cindy's name.

"My name. It's Prompto, buddy," he almost spat. "And she's, uh, a… a nobody," he trailed off after catching his mouth too late; his eyes wandered to the floor and the flush crept higher over his face; a hand reached the familiar spot in the back of his neck. Ignis sighed silently, rolling his eyes.

Ardyn chuckled. "It is quite astounding, Prince Noctis, how far you've managed to break it, really. It thinks it has fallen in love," he smirked. "It believes that it can."

Prompto felt like someone had just slammed into his gut with a morningstar. Air escaped him in a sharp, hurt gasp before he could push the degrading remark aside. But Noctis didn't spare Izunia even a glance as he came to the gunner's side and punched him playfully. "Nevermind that, Prom. We'll get her looked at," he let out a forced little laughter, eyeing the car with exaggerated enthusiasm. Catching onto what Noctis was doing, Prompto forced out a grin of his own and replied,

"Yeah. This baby can take anything."

Ardyn wasn't phased by their effort. He shook his head a little and spoke softly, "Suit yourself, Your Highness. Keep it. But make no mistake, you cannot undo what it is." He shot a cunning glance at Prompto before turning on to leave the cargo compartment. "We'll be landing soon. I suggest you get yourselves 'buckled up'." He held a small pause as if he'd known that all the eyes were on his back. "I bid you farewell now, my friends. May the favor of the Astrals be ever on your side," he greeted, turning enough to tip his hat for a goodbye. Then he was through the door, the distancing steps tapping casually on the tungsten floor.

"Man, that guy gives me the creeps!" Prompto huffed. "The next time I see him, I should make him call me Mr. I-Just-Shot-Your-Face-Off. Instead of 'Prompto'." He left unvoiced the other alternative, the memory of the man's voice sending involuntary shivers along his back.

"Wouldn't do you any good, reckon," Noctis noted humorlessly. He had climbed to sit on the rear of the car, one leg propped close to his chest, the other dangling freely. "I literally saw him getting shot at pointblank, and he didn't even blink. That guy's something else."

"No shit…" The look on the gunner's face was a cross of shocked and creeped out.

Ignis pushed his glasses up a bit, "Izunia is certainly a man not to be trifled with, but that is no news. Frankly, I'm not overjoyed that it is thanks to him that we have our wheels back." Everyone fell silent as the implications of that sunk. "Nonetheless, we have her back now. Hop in, everyone."

They did. Soon the steady movement of the ship slowed down before transitioning into vertical, and at long last they felt the reverberation of the contact rattle the ship's frame as they landed. The dropship door opened, and Ignis steered them down the ramp, out into Duscae.

* * *

 **AN: So guys, I need to apologize in advance. It might take some time until the next update is out. I'll be drowning in work, and after Midsummers I'll be out of the country for a week. So please bear with me. I'm not gonna abandon Tool, but it might really take a while. I wanted to get the story to a reasonable point before I'll have to let it rest.**

 **Thank you all for your love for Tool! It warms my heart. I'll hope to see you later. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN and The DLC Discussion: Hey guys! I'm back. I had an awesome trip to Austria - I've never been, and the mountain hikes and the landscape were just a scream! I had so much fun. ^^ Sorry to keep y'all waiting, though. But I hope you've had a nice time playing Episode Prompto - I still haven't. I can't wait to dig into it some day soon, though. But. I've heard enough about it to learn that it's gonna be a heartache with a capital H. And truthfully, how it's going to affect Tool, I dunno yet. Also, I don't know if the DLC holds any content that will actually significantly contradict with what I've assumed or stated as facts in this story so far. Since it's pretty far-fetched as it is, I'm not too afraid of that becoming an issue. But if it will prove to be necessary, in some aspects, Tool might have to ignore or disregard certain aspects of the DLC in the future, since I am not looking forward to revising the entire story compendium to suit the DLC. I'd be more likely to scrap it than do that, to be honest. So regardless what is stated in the DLC, I will most likely work this story based on the limitations I've built for myself so far. I just hope that there aren't any too major hiccups; I'll only know once I've played it. But I wanted to state that for the future, and since I know some of you have probably played it already and might find things that are off in this story. Let me know what you think, I'd love to hear that. But please, no major spoilers?**

 **Beta read by Elillierose. She's the ace! Check her work out, guys, it's... hnnn! ^^**

* * *

A light aroma of leather lingered inside the car; Prompto drew in deep breaths of the familiar scent as his gaze followed a single droplet as it streaked down the glass until it merged with other streaks, becoming indistinguishable, and then his eyes would find another one. The radio was on, a female voice he didn't know was singing some slow tempo blues; not his style really, it was Ignis' pick. It wasn't that bad, though, the singer had a nice, a little raspy voice. Kinda suited the pitter-patter of the rain as it tapped onto the roof and the windshield.

Prompto didn't feel like talking. And it seemed like no-one else did, either. Soon after they had dashed from the dropship landing site as fast as Ignis dared to go (which had been a considerable number above the speed limit), everyone had eventually just shut down. It had started with Noctis dozing off, first for a few minutes before the occasional snippet of small talk type conversation had brought him back enough to contribute. But now the raven sat slumped on the backseat, head hanging and puffing out steady breaths, and what snippets there had been had been silenced.

He breathed out a long sigh. On the radio, the song ended and another one started, flowing almost unnoticeably. Like the landscape rushing by, distorted by the wet glass, a muddled, deformed mass of greens on his retina. He leaned his head against the cool glass, savoring the feeling, and let his eyes wander downwards to his lap.

It wasn't the first time their rides were spent in silence, but this time the atmosphere in the car was suffocating. Prompto could taste the electrified tension on his tongue, that metallic, bitter flavor of prolonged pretending. Pretending that everything was alright. A squeak of leather as Gladio shifted on the backseat had the blue eyes darting towards the source of the sound curiously, but he only turned enough to throw the man a sideways glance over his shoulder. Gladio's eyes were fixed on the passing landscape, not unlike his own had been, the shield keeping his attention determinedly on anything but the other men in the car. There was a frown on his face, though, and his shoulders were tense with forced façade of coolness. 'Keepin' up appearances, huh?' He sighed quietly as he averted his eyes again, this time to steal a little look at the adviser. Ignis' shoulders were up in his ears, eyes a little narrowed as he peered through the rain and the swishing of the wipers. If the man caught the blond watching, he didn't announce it. He didn't glance back, didn't say a word. 'Fine. If that's how it's gonna be,' Prompto thought as he slumped deeper in his seat, turning his gaze back out of the window like everyone else.

The CD came to an end, and the car was wrapped in complete silence only to be disturbed by the rain and an occasional snort from Noctis. Ignis made no move to put on something else; either he didn't notice the change or he pretended that he didn't. Either way, what had been a pressing silence had grown strangling with the forced nature of it. It made the youngest's heart squelch. His mind tried to protect him, to steer him away from the thought that this tension, this over-alertness was his fault.

They had been through hell. No short amount of time was going to fix that. And with Prompto staying with them, that kept the danger close, and them on a short leash. That knowledge left in its wake an unsettlement Prompto couldn't help but feel guilty about. And he couldn't help but question if this was the right thing to do. He sighed deeply, let his head sink into the headrest, eyes on the top of the car. He was feeling miserable. And unlike the older men, he didn't care if it showed. 'You guys'll just ignore it anyway,' he thought a bit bitterly. What was this charade they were putting up, anyway?! Prompto's head rolled to the side, the sky-blue settling onto the driver and staying there, boring into the man's side until Ignis had no choice.

"What is it, Prompto?" The man's tone held an undertone of irritation, but the younger one let it slide.

"So…" he drawled, his eyes never leaving the adviser's stoic face, "Where exactly are we goin'?"

Ignis' lips twitched a little, like the question had annoyed him. "To Cauthess rest area. From where we were dropped off, it is the nearest one, although it is still quite the distance. We're to replenish our wares, posthaste, and get something to eat. As you know, our capture to Gralea left us with nothing." Prompto felt a sting.

"You don't need to remind me…" he half-muttered, and Ignis finally glanced at the young man. He sat slumped, sunken into his seat, his head resting on the side at an angle that surely stretched his neck borderline painfully. And a look of hurt crossed his face; the adviser swallowed a little.

"… Apologies."

"T's fine," the other shrugged. "It's not a lie."

"Iggy," came Gladio's drawling voice, "How much further?" He sounded almost disinterested, like he had only asked to steer the mood from souring any further. "Heh. I'm starvin'." The said man pushed his glasses up a little, his eyes narrowing as he peered through the intensifying rain.

"Not too long, I would think." There was avoidance in the voice, hinting the other that he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. He had completely disregarded the notion of the other's need. Gladio shrugged a little as he again turned his eyes to the rainfall.

"Alright. But can you put something on? This silence irks me."

"I don't wish to wake His Highness."

"You know Noct would sleep through an air raid just fine," the other snorted. He could tell when the adviser was giving out excuses. "So c'mon, Iggy." Sighing in annoyance, Ignis did eventually click on the radio. A Leville hotel chain commercial was running, and the bespectacled man rolled his eyes. Resisting the urge to change the channel, his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "Thanks."

"Hey, guys…" Prompto started, pulling himself to sit straight. "Can we maybe take the motel for the night? I don't know about you guys but I'm really not in the mood for camping tonight," he almost pleaded. The past nights spent on cold concrete or even colder wood plank, the last one unconscious… Prompto could do with a proper bed. And apparently the others felt the same way. There was an agreeing hum from the backseat, and Ignis nodded slightly.

"It is my plan that we first get ourselves a place to rest, then find something to eat. Frankly, the meal on the ship left a lot to be desired." Plus, Ignis thought sullenly, they'd have to draw plans. Whatever was their next goal, he couldn't pinpoint. There were choices, but it was up to Noct, really. But nevertheless, he knew they needed the proper rest before heading out any further. They were exhausted. Little as the impeccable man liked to admit that, the accumulated stress and the horror had taken its toll. On all of them. He shrugged his shoulders a little to force them to relax a little, but soon they automatically crept closer to his ears again. "And, I admit that the idea of a proper bath does sound enticing." The man next to him perked up a little at the idea.

"Oh, yeah! A hot tub," he said longingly, a content look on his face at the thought. "I might even spare some hot water for you guys." There was a snort from behind him, but other than that, the others didn't take on his hook, so the blond left it at that and instead rolled his shoulders to sit more comfortably as he turned his gaze back to the streaks on the window. "So… how much further?"

* * *

Ignis pulled off the road after half an hour; the Cauthess rest area was drowning under the heavy pounding of the rain, water cascading down from every exposed nook and cranny. Prompto cringed as he glanced at his hair in the rearview mirror, then outside, and did the math. "Aww, man…" The adviser snorted quietly at the other's whining.

"Shall we then?" As if to make a point, he pushed the front door open, the wind immediately beating down at his face with the needle-like moisture. Ignis' lips pulled back a little, but he stubbornly made to cross the parking lot to the inn entrance with calm steps instead of hasty leaps, one hand raised to protect his eyes. The man stopped for long enough to throw a quick, "Are you three coming?" behind him.

With a jaded sigh, Noctis shrugged, "I guess it can't be helped." He unfolded his legs from their crossed position and looked at the others expectantly. Seeing no alternative other than to stay out in the car, an option Prompto actually considered, the gunner, too, grabbed the door handle.

"Yeeeah, I guess so."

"Pussy," Gladio chuckled loud enough for only Prompto to hear it.

"Hey!"

"What? Getting under your skin now?" he smirked as they pushed their respective doors open. As they stood up their feet on the other side, though, something had changed. Gladiolus noted the shift as the younger man pushed his door shut, his eyes on nothing and a vacant, sorrowful look on his face. And that's when it clicked. That he had crossed a line he shouldn't even be allowed near, much less cross, but he had. And it had backfired. "Oh shit, Prompto, I didn't mean it like that," Gladio's voice was tight with embarrassment at his terrible attempt at teasing.

Prompto didn't look at him, not wanting to see the regret on his face. For he wouldn't know what the regret would be directed towards; his careless, slicing words, or the fact that there was the prompt to say them in the first place. That there was Prompto to tell them to in the first place. The gunner's heart fluttered, the coolness of the rain contrasting greatly with the heat that had arisen onto his face. He knew that he'd been wrong in actually hoping that they'd be fine. That just a little talking could mend what had been severed so brutally. He wasn't at all sure that Gladio, or Ignis, for that matter, even approved of him still tagging along. Gladio had said nothing about that, not yay nor nay, but then again, it wasn't up to him. Nevertheless, it left Prompto feeling like he was walking on a thin line. That he was being watched, stalked for any small mishap, any other deviation from… From what? What exactly were they expecting of him, anyway? He didn't know. But for some reason it frustrated him. It was suffocating!

"Nevermind," he bit back a little snappily. The blond was already heading for the building as a firm grip on his arm halted him.

"Prompto." Gladiolus' tone was a demand, wanting the blond to look at him. "Wait a sec."

The blond didn't say anything more for the moment, but he turned to look at the shield, the usually sparkling and beautiful blue eyes now dimmed with anger and offence taken. "You know what, that was a pretty shitty thing to say. Even for you." The amber eyes blinked at the reaction. Prompto had jerked his arm free, a wild look crossed over his face, his breaths were deep. The look quickly melted into that of hurt; Prompto's whole posture crumbled.

"Listen, uh-" he started, averting his eyes, suddenly embarrassed by the whole thing. But the gunner just shook his head, looking slightly incredulous.

"Let's just go, ok?" he said lowly as he turned his back to the shield. The rain had soaked him, pressed his locks down into slick tentacles that stuck to his face. Prompto hardly even noticed it.

Gladiolus stayed behind, his investigative eyes never leaving the blond's distancing back. He had screwed up, alright? Dammit, he wanted to kick himself for his autonomous mouth! He felt like an idiot for his blurt. It was obvious he had hurt his feelings, but the blond was too humble to say it. Either that, or there was something else Gladiolus couldn't interpret. Respecting the other's wish to salvage the rest of his dignity, he said no more on the matter as he made to follow him, his clothes and dark mane dripping excess water on every step. But, he made a mental note to make it up to the blond. Somehow. He'd figure out a way.

Prompto still avoided looking at him as they caught up with the others. Ignis was engaged in what seemed to be a heated conversation with the receptionist; the adviser looked like the situation was getting on his last nerve as the lady behind the counter apologized for something, but unfortunately there was nothing she could do about it. Noctis was leaning to the wall, his back pressed against it and arms crossed over his chest. His brow rose as he glanced at the soaked men. "Did you guys go swimming or something?"

Prompto half-smirked, half-snorted at him, the sullen look gone, or at least very well hidden, "Dude. In case you missed it, it's kinda raining out there."

"Yeah, but you two look like someone just dumped a bucketful on you. What took you so long?" A look of avoidance flashed over the gunner's face, but before he could make up an excuse, Gladiolus cut in,

"I had to check something out." The questioning look on the prince asked 'like what'; ignoring the silent demand, Gladio went to change the topic. "So, what's going on?" Noctis looked at him for a moment, obviously not buying it, but let it go with a shrug.

"They don't have a room for four. They were offering us two twin rooms, but it would cost extra." As if on cue, Ignis pushed himself off the counter with a court thank-you. He shook his head a little as he made his way over.

"I'm afraid there's nothing they can do. There is no room for two extra beds in any of the available rooms, and unless we wish to spend the night outdoors, I see no other alternative. I must point out, though, that that will be the undoing of our funds," he sounded irritated. Noctis shook his head.

"So we take a hunt or something later. Pay up, Specs."

"Yeah, Iggy. It's not often I say this, but I could really do with a real room instead of camping tonight," Gladio persuaded him as he squeezed the water from his hair. Ignis looked displeased.

"Are you sure of this, Noct? An unexpected need for money may arise in case we'll require other supplies…"

"That's an issue for a later time," the raven cut in. "Let's just take it. Camp's not gonna cut it tonight."

"... Very well, then," the adviser nodded before returning to the counter. It was clear the man wasn't happy about the current turn of events, but what can he do? Paying up a small fortune, Ignis received two keys, and with a polite nod to the receptionist, he returned to the others, dangling the symbol of their awaiting reprieve between his fingers invitingly.

"So, how should we do this?" Gladio asked, gesturing towards the keys. Prompto, having inched closer to the raven unconsciously, shot an almost startled look at the shield, as if only now realizing what had been implied.

"Dibbs on rooming with Noct!" he burst out, throwing a hand in the air. "I mean no offence, but you guys snore," he made a face, wishing dearly that Gladio would stay on the hook and not make things any more awkward. Gladio's "do not" mangled with Ignis' "I assure you, I don't"; the younger men smirked.

"Prom's right, Gladio. You do," Noctis noted, smirking, before pushing himself off the wall. He took one of the keys from the brunet and jerked his head for Prompto, "You comin'?"

"Dude. No need to ask," grinning, he hurried to follow the raven.

"Noct?" Ignis' voice stopped them.

"Hmm?"

"Let's meet here in half an hour for dinner. I would rather no-one wandered around alone."

"What happened to 'undoing of our funds'?" the young man chuckled. Ignis shook his head, smirking a little.

"In the face of this bankruptcy, I hardly think it makes our situation any worse to treat ourselves with what little we have left," he snorted lightly with a small smirk. "Half an hour."

"Alright. See ya later, guys. C'mon, Prom." The young men left, Prompto crossing his arms behind his back in a stretch. It took a while to notice that Noctis kept glancing at him in an investigative way.

"What?" he raised an eyebrow, his eyes wandering a little.

"Prom, is everything alright?"

"Uh, yeah? Why wouldn't it be?" he tried, lowering his arms to cross them over his chest. Noctis' gaze didn't waver. He'd known his friend for long enough to sense that something was off.

"You sure? You seem kinda… off." The youngest made a little snorty chuckling sound and lowered his gaze to the floor.

"I'm just… pretty exhausted, I guess."

"Uh-huh." Noctis' tone told him that he wasn't believing it, but seeing as the other clearly didn't want talk about it, he didn't prod. Instead he said, "Anyway, let's get you dried up a little. They should have a hairdryer or something in there." They had reached their room, Noctis opening it swiftly.

"Well, if you excuse me then, Your Highness," Prompto smirked as he made a mock bow before disappearing into the bathroom. Soon Noctis could hear the 'twhoooo' of the blower, and assuming the blond to take a while, slumped down onto one of the beds, splaying himself over it. He let his eyes slide shut, getting comfortable.

He hadn't noticed his gradual drifting off. Noctis woke up to the shaking of his shoulder and friendly demands of getting up. "Uh…" The intense blue searched for its sky counterpart. "What–" He was interrupted by a yawn. "Uah haim is it?"

Prompto smirked, "Enough to make Ignis lose it. C'mon, man. Let's mosey." Wiping his eyes, the prince chased the remainders of sleep from his eyes and got up. He threw a quick once-over towards the blond, his appearance now a little more acceptable. His clothes were dry, but his hair looked like a harvested hayfield; it stuck out funnily, like he had tried to fix it but couldn't quite get there. Noctis couldn't suppress a little chuckle; Prompto made a face at him. "Seriously, can we go now?" he rolled his eyes.

"Sure thing," Noctis chuckled. "Don't let it go to your hair." The other threw him a glare.

Ignis and Gladio were waiting for them by the time they got to the reception. The shield was sitting down on an armchair, reading a magazine, but the adviser was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and a look of discontent on his face; he unwinded as he heard the approaching steps. "Took your time." His tone held scolding; Noctis brushed it off with an apologetic look.

"I guess I kinda forgot about the time."

"Oh, don't be daft, Noct!" Prompto chimed in, a playful sting in his voice. Revenge was best served cold, after all. "You were totes asleep."

Ignis shook his head a little. "Well, since you two are finally here, shall we?" He made a move to get out of the motel and towards the diner. It was still raining outside, but the harshest downpour seemed to have been ceased.

As they sat munching into what counted as the first proper meal in days, Ignis eventually set his utensils down and crossed his hands casually, leaning his elbows onto the table; he fixed them with a look that told them the adviser had something to say. Waiting until he had everyone's attention, he finally spoke, "I think we should decide our next course of action." He held a pause, everyone expecting him to elaborate. "Firstly, we are on schedule for Noct to forge the pact with the Fulgurian. As the trial sites are located here in Duscae, it would be a sensible starting point. However, it appears that you forging the contract is also in the best interest of Chancellor Izunia, Noct." Ignis' tone told exactly how wrong that thought rubbed him. "Although I doubt that, we cannot overlook the possibility of another Imperial intrusion." Ignis tried very hard not lot flick eyes in the general direction of the blond at that. "Then again, as it stands, the damage done to the Regalia requires Cindy's attention at some point." He let the implications of that suggestion sink. "Unfortunately, it appears we're penniless. Traveling all the way to Hammerhead, plus the maintenance work, is going to cost us gil we don't have."

"So you're saying we're either going to have to play into that creep's hands, or head out begging for alms," Noctis mused as he leaned against the backrest, crossing his arms and a thoughtful look on his face.

"… Not my preferred choice of words but, yes," Ignis nodded. "We could of course try to collect the bounty on those slain wyverns from a local informant, but that might be a long shot."

"Worth a try," Gladio nodded. "I think the hunters' community does that."

The others kept chatting, pondering on their choices, and if they actually had any. But Noctis was lost in thought as he felt the unvoiced demand to call for the shots. He knew that putting the contract off delayed their journey to Altissia, to Luna and the trial of the Hydrean. But as it seemed, Ignis was right. There was something in it for Izunia, and Noctis had to suppress a shudder at the thought of the man. For the thought related so much more than that: the feel of the hemp against his neck, the dread and the desperation. The threats on his friends' lives. The horror they had witnessed. It was all because of him. And even now he was playing with them, pulling invisible strings to make them dance to his tune like mindless dolls. And Noctis didn't feel like humoring the bastard…

But what other choice did he have?

This was his fate, he reminded himself. His duty, as the king. He had to squelch the fearful doubt in his heart; despite whatever it was that Ardyn was after, he couldn't afford to be hindered by it. He had to do this. And the longer he slacked off, the longer Luna would have to wait. Not that he was at all sure that the woman would still meet with him at Altissia, with the Empire in disarray and the peace treaty pretty much trashed, would there still be a wedding? Noctis didn't know. He hadn't heard of her since before meeting the Archaean. But he was sure she was alright. She wasn't skill-less, and with Umbra, Pryna and Gentiana, Noctis was sure Luna was doing fine. But a word of confirmation would have been nice.

He took a deep breath before voicing his decision.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: _Omatase itashimashita_. Sorry to keep you waiting, guys. I took a break from Tool a little too long, maybe, but here it is. I dunno if it feels sudden, maybe, but this is the last chapter to Mind of a Tool. I've been meaning to end it when the things are looking up, and my beta and I came to the conclusion that this would be as good as any. I'm not saying I'm 100% sure I'm definitely done with Tool yet, but the part 2... this is it.**

 **For the first time in my life, I actually have reading instructions for this chapter. When you come to the end of the first scene, there is the invitation to listen to a song and you'll see the lyrics in italics. At that point, I am humbly, pleadingly asking you to please listen to the song (Broods - Free) AND PAUSE THERE FOR A MOMENT. Please don't read further than the lyrics and the dash indicating a scene break until the song is over, for there is almost a 180 mood shift in the text, and the song and a little pause in reading through are intented to smoothen that transition. So, when you reach that part, just click on the song and watch the video, or go grab a nice cup of coffee and take a break and just enjoy it. I promise you, this is for the best reading experience and this is how I intend it to be read. I hope it's not too confusing.**

 **I had so much fun writing this. Thanks, Elillierose, for beta reading and your constructive ideas. Also, Bagpipes5K2, I hope Tool has lived up to the expectations. It's yours as much as it is mine.  
**

 **Now, I think it's finally time to give Prompto some love. For heaven knows he deserves it.**

* * *

The rain had died down by the time they had finished their dinner. Prompto inhaled the fresh, crisp air in deep, savoring breaths, cherishing the scent. At the moment, it represented everything opposite to what he had learned to know in the past few days – staleness, industrial fumes and closed-in spaces – and he wanted to hold onto that. A leg propped up to his chest, the other dangling over the edge, Prompto leaned himself further against the metal-grated surface as he gazed at the stardust shimmering in the now clear sky. He couldn't help a sad smile as it rose to his face, a look of mesmerizement and yearning when gazing up at the heavens that had given him so much, and yet demanded even more as the price.

Tomorrow, Noct had decided, they would set out to face the trials of the Fulgurian. But, they would take their time, have themselves the slow morning all of them more or less openly hoped to get to enjoy. No-one would want to rush anything, and Prompto had a feeling it might end up being less the morning and more like the earliest convenience when they would finally hit the road. Not that he minded.

He should be asleep, he knew. When they had left the diner, some four-ish hours ago maybe, it had seemed like everyone was about ready to crash where they stood. They must have looked like a bunch of drunkards, or still cognitively functioning zombies, practically dragging themselves forward on lead legs. Noctis had gone out like a light, and Prompto still chuckled at the mental image.

The prince had literally thrown the room door open, bent down for long enough to take his shoes off, and then beelined towards his bed, stripping himself of his clothing on the way, piece by piece, the discarded garments forming a path. He'd gotten down to his t-shirt by the time he reached the bed, and apparently had decided that it was good enough. Noctis had slumped down onto it and wriggled himself under the bedcovers, and hadn't been seen since. Ignis, who had invited himself in by insisting on wanting to clean the wound and change Prompto's gauze before they would settle in for the night, had rolled his eyes, urging the prince at the very least to please place his belongings with a little more care. He had received nothing but dismissive mutters and shifting of bedsheets as his reply. And if Prompto would have said that he hadn't internally chuckled at the face the man had made, well, Prompto would have lied.

He should be asleep. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, one in the string of many. But somehow he couldn't catch an eyeful. Wasn't he tired? He was, very much so. His body felt like it had been beaten with a baseball bat, then thrown into a hydraulic press and then gone through a turbo speed tumble dryer for a good measure. Yes, he was exhausted. But his body's need to lie down didn't reach his mind, which longed to linger on the memories of his very own personal helter-skelter.

He sighed deeply and closed his eyes to cherish the little gust of wind gently whisking against his face. The sky-blue eyes cracked open again, to gaze at the arcs of stone reaching over the land, painting a dark portrait against the starlit sky. It was beautiful, really. A scene of calm contrasting greatly with his quaking heart.

Who was he really? Prompto had thought he had known, but as it turned out, he had no clue, not anymore. He traced the clean bindings over his wrist, wincing at the pain that shot up his arm immediately when he accidentally put a little too much pressure on it. He swallowed against a lump of disgust that rose into his throat, the memory stain of the blood and his own quivering hand assaulting him. What had he been thinking?! He hadn't; Prompto sighed and reached his hands around to hug his knee into his chest. He had just wanted to make it go away, the symbol of his deviation. Maybe then things could have gone back to normal. Maybe then he didn't have to spend the rest of his life hating himself.

He cringed at the word. Hate. Did he? Hate himself? In some ways, yes. Yes, he did. He hated that he would never again be able to go back into pretending to be just like everyone else. Until recently, he had managed to fool himself. The brutality of his self-denialistic delusion hadn't quite left him. For so long he had kept to his lies – was that the right word for it, lies? – that he had started to believe in them himself. Truth hurt, it really did.

As he gazed at the distance, a sudden sound of a door being slammed open and hasty footfalls jerked him from his reverie. Noctis had at least found his clothing, he noted as the prince dashed onto the motel parking lot, looking frantic, his head swishing from one side to the other like he was looking for something. "Prompto?!" The said man's heart skipped a beat at the urgency in his friend's voice. "Prompto?!" Realizing the raven perhaps didn't come to think of looking up, Prompto called out a little apologetically,

"I'm here, Noct!"

Noctis' head spun into the direction of the voice at breakneck speed, and he visibly relaxed at the recognition of the fond figure. His shoulders dropped with a half-pant of relief, and the prince shook his head a little to assure himself that his fright had been for nothing. Prompto was sitting on the roof, leaning against a fuse box, dangling one leg over the edge and looking like Noctis had interrupted something. Well, no matter. "Prom?! What the hell are you doing up there?" He didn't wait for a permission before closing the majority of the distance in a flash of blue. His world decrystalized just in time to get to see the blond shrug.

"Just… thinking. It's no big deal." Noctis came sit down with him.

"What do you mean, 'it's no big deal'?! Sheesh man, I thought–" Noctis' voice faded away with an abrupt stop that held a degree of worry; it drew Prompto's attention, only for the sky-blue to catch Noctis' gaze lingering on his hands, a look of disturbance washing over his face before he could hide it from him. Prompto swallowed and turned his face away as he understood. Understood what Noct had feared to find.

"Well, it's not what you thought, okay?" he said, coming out a bit bitterly.

"Prompto…"

"I just needed some fresh air, is all."

Noctis looked taken aback. "I, uh… sorry. I just…" he trailed off again, not sure what he wanted to say, how to word it. He felt heat rising over his cheeks, and there was the sting of guilt.

"It's alright, though," Prompto said so lowly he only barely caught it; the blond held a sad smile as he shook his head a little. "I'm happy that you came for me." Taking the other's surprised silence as his cue, he turned to look at him in the eye again and asked, "Tell me… were you worried about me?"

Noctis gasped silently. Hadn't he just dashed out alone in the middle of the night because of the guttural fear that Prompto might have been injured – lying somewhere in a pool of his own blood – and needed him? Hadn't he been worried sick? "Of course, I was. What kind of a question is that?"

Something leaped inside him. Something warm. He hadn't wanted to make them worried, to make him worried the least of all, had hoped no-one would notice, but… hearing the honest concern for him in Noct's voice, it was touching. Unexpected, but dearly appreciated. It made him feel like this all wasn't just a huge mistake. That he belonged, or at least someone really thought so.

It gave him a purpose.

Prompto's lips stretched into a soft smile, and the sky-blue orbs were shining. "Thanks." He left unvoiced the obvious. 'You have no idea what that means to me.' For Noctis knew. He saw it. The prince, too, smiled sympathetically, communicating silently what he couldn't word. The moment was short-lived, though, as Noctis caught himself, and coughing a little, averted his eyes into the landscape.

"So, what're you doing out here, anyway?" he asked with a little exaggerated nonchalance. Prompto shrugged, also turning his gaze forward.

"I told you. Just thinking."

"About what?" The blond glanced at him with a look that spoke volumes of his lost state of mind.

"About… whatever, I guess. All of this that… happened." The tone of the other got Noctis to pull his leg up to sit more steadily, and he briefly glanced back at the gunner before averting his eyes again.

"Yeah. It's a pretty heavy load to take in," he mused, drifting into the memories a little himself. They sat in silence for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts as they gazed over the night-shaded land.

"What do you think it's gonna be like? The trial of the Fulgurian?" Prompto suddenly mused.

Noctis blinked. "Who knows? Iggy said that he knows the rough locations but not what the actual trial is like. I guess we'll just have to figure it out once we're there," he shrugged.

"And by we you mean you'll have to figure it out. You and your ego," Prompto sniped, chuckling. Noctis smirked but wasn't phased.

"You'll back me up," he said as he closed his eyes and reached behind to stretch his arms. The 'like you'd need to ask' was so quiet it was almost missed by the raven. "Huh?" He recoiled from the stretch, careful not to do it too fast and sprain something, but his undivided attention was on Prompto's playful face. "What's that?"

"Nooo-thing," he drawled, grinning. The intense blue eyes grew stinging, like Noctis was trying to pry out what the blond wasn't saying, and Prompto's grin melted, replaced by a look of sincerity, and the humor was gone from his voice. "I just want you to know that... I'll be there for you, Noct. By your side." He hesitated for a moment before adding, his voice trembling at the end, "If you'll have me."

"Prompto… what are you saying?"

The blond didn't answer immediately. Instead he looked like he was tasting the words before speaking them, mulling them into a form that he would be able to work with. "Noct, are you sure that it's a good idea that I'll be tagging along?" he asked, without any ulterior motives, just the honest uncertainty.

Saying that Noctis looked dumbstruck would have been the understatement of the century. "What're you talkin' about?! Of course! We've been over this, Prom." Noctis wanted to just grab the blond and knock some sense into him. Where was this coming from now, the prince didn't understand.

"Yeah, but–"

"No buts."

"But," Prompto insisted, paying no heed to Noctis' tightening expression, "are you sure? I don't want–" He had to pause, not able to say it. 'I don't want to see you getting hurt because of me.'

It was like Noctis had read his thoughts, for he grabbed his shoulder tightly, waiting for the blond to look at him before speaking, and when he did, it held grace and dedication, and for a moment, Prompto thought that he saw a glimpse of the king Noct would one day be. "I want you there as much as Iggy and Gladio. And if Izunia's using that somehow, it's a risk we're gonna have to take. But do you honestly think that he didn't follow up with whatever this master plan of his is regardless?"

The blue eyes widened, a small gasp was barely audible. He held Noctis' gaze like a drowning man holds onto a piece of driftwood; at that moment, Prompto saw him not only as his friend but as his sovereign, his leader. His beacon, his guiding light in the midst of the haze that was his mind. He felt moisture prickling behind his eyes but refused to let that show. Nevertheless, the blue orbs softened, shining with a myriad of emotions. There was relief, there was salvation. But most prominent was the gratitude. The blond looked both fragile and headstrong as he grabbed Noctis' arm to grasp it like his world depended on it, his gaze never leaving the other's. Faltering, becoming a bit clouded with the water that sheened over his vision, but never leaving.

"So, no more second-guessing yourself, Prom," Noctis said calmly, and yet the tone held a certain finality. That he would have no more of it. "That's what they keep preaching to the Glaives, too" he added with a small smirk.

Prompto's heart beat so hard he could swear it was carving itself out of his chest. His lungs clenched, making breathing difficult, like he was holding back a sob that fought to be released but he was determined to keep it in. He wanted to shout out his relief, to drop down and roll on the ground laughing but he couldn't do either of those things because Noctis had petrified him with that piercing stare that had become his hope. It was unbearable, the feeling of salvation. And in that moment, Prompto pledged himself to the young king. Not just as a friend; mind, body and soul, he would follow Noct to the end of the world. No matter what, Prompto would stay by his side. Not just because he himself wanted to, but because Noctis wanted him to.

Would it matter that he was what he was? That at any given moment someone could try to use it against him? No, Prompto decided. It wouldn't matter. He cringed inwardly at Izunia's words, the cruel mockery of a parting gift he had left them with. _'You cannot undo what it is.'_ He drew in a shaky breath. That's right, they couldn't. But Prompto himself could. He would best him. Find a way to make his peace with that. Turn those words into naught. Because Noctis believed in him. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," the raven smirked. Seeing that his friend was more back to his usual self, Noctis let go. Less than casually changing the subject and driving away the lingering sentiment, Noctis glanced at the time. "We should get back," he mused, glancing at the other with a meaningful look. "You think you're up for it?" The other simply shrugged, his eyes averted.

"Yeah, I guess so." He didn't particularly want to go back to the room, he still wasn't feeling sleepy, but he could tell Noctis was. And he knew that Noctis could never be persuaded into going by himself, not now. He would insist on staying up with him, perhaps, Prompto figured, to make sure that he didn't try anything reckless. And it would have been selfish to keep him from his sleep. So, reluctantly he got up from his spot against the metal box and dusted himself before nodding towards the ladder, asking him silently to lead the way. Noctis shrugged and headed for the way down, turning his back just in time to miss the soft smile of joy that crept over the blond's face.

Broods – Free

 _I'd lose everything so I can sing  
Hallelujah, I'm free  
I'm free, I'm free  
I'm free, I'm free_

 _I have lived my life so perfectly  
Kept to all my lies so carefully  
I'd lose everything so I can sing  
Hallelujah, I'm free  
I'm free, I'm free  
I'm free, I'm free  
Hallelujah, I'm free_

 _Gritting your teeth, you hold onto me  
It's never enough, I'm never complete  
Tell me to prove, expect me to lose  
I push it away, I'm trying to move  
Hoping for more, and wishing for less  
When I didn't care was when I did the best  
I'm desperate to run, I'm desperate to leave  
If I lose it all, at least I'll be free_

 _It's clear you think that I'm inferior  
Whatever helps you sleep at night  
Whatever helps you keep it tight_

 _Gritting your teeth, you hold onto me_  
 _It's never enough, I'm never complete_  
 _Tell me to prove, expect me to lose_  
 _I push it away, I'm trying to move_  
 _Hoping for more, and wishing for less_  
 _When I didn't care was when I did the best_  
 _I'm desperate to run, I'm desperate to leave_  
 _If I lose it all, at least I'll be free_

* * *

The morning came, brutally quickly and with vehemence. Every fiber in the gunner's body begged for him to stay in his slumberland for a little while longer, just a little longer. But it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the knocks at the door, the persistent sound that, against his will, dragged him into wakefulness.

Prompto couldn't remember the party, but judging from his current state, it must have been ace! He felt like having a hangover: dried-up, groggy and it was difficult to focus on things. Blinking a few times, he pried his eyes to comply with him, and eventually the details got sharper as his vision stopped swimming. Glancing towards the other bed, he found it still occupied; Noctis had buried himself under his duvet, probably in an attempt to escape the noise, but the shifting of the bedsheets told him that it wasn't quite working.

 _"Noct? Prompto?"_ Gladio's low voice sounded, accompanied by a few knocks. _"You guys up? Hey."_ Prompto rolled his eyes, couldn't the guy take a hint? What time was it anyway…? Reaching to the nightstand to snatch his phone, Prompto yawned against his pillow.

"Hunh?!" His eyes widened as he read the time: 09:57. He stuffed the phone under his pillow as he buried himself against it, breathing around it in a labored way. Battling with himself, the gunner let out a groan at the resilient knocks. Apparently Gladio wasn't going to give up. With an irritated mutter, Prompto flung the duvet off as he crawled free from the soft confines and strolled to the door. "Coming!" he drawled, annoyance audible in his voice.

The dark eyebrows rose at the sight that greeted him as the door slowly opened. Prompto was leaning against the frame, one hand in his pajama pants' pocket, most of his weight supported by the plywood. The blond locks were a ruffled mess, hanging over his eyes and ears. The sky-blue eyes glared at him behind drooping lids. Gladio snorted. "Rise and shine." The blond made a face.

"Haa-haa. Hilarious."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

"Nope. I suppose not," Prompto huffed with mock enthusiasm but moved out of the way to let the older man in.

"Did'ya sleep well?"

Prompto turned to flash him a sarcastic smile. "And I would have loved to continue to, had someone not come bashing on our door."

"I would hardly call that bashing," the brute snorted with a smirk.

"Wah hill houd heehah, hough" the blond yawned as he stretched his arms above his head.

"Whatever. The princess up yet?" Gladio's tone returned to a more serious degree and he crossed his arms impatiently. With a sound of nonchalance, Prompto just motioned towards the wriggling pile on Noct's bed; the shield rolled his eyes with a quiet grunt. "Noct said 'slow morning'. But this is pushing it."

"Is Iggy up already, too?" Prompto asked, aiming for casual but coming out as a little incredulous instead.

"Way ahead of me. He said to tell you he's almost done with breakfast. So let's move it." Without a second's hesitation, he closed the distance to the barely woken prince. "Hey, Noct. How 'bout you dig yourself outta there and get a move on? Breakfast's ready." With a sound of half-wakefulness, the raven eventually pushed himself up and staggered towards the bathroom, slamming the door sloppily behind him. The sound of running water carried through the door quietly, and Prompto tried to focus on that instead of the feeling of eyes on himself. He gulped quietly; it wasn't exactly threatening, but it still made him feel self-conscious and somehow… trapped.

Gladio had sat on the foot of Noctis' bed. His face was unreadable as he tried to put on a facade of casualness, but the younger man had caught him watching, more than once, with an attentive look. The instant he had locked their eyes, though, Gladio had averted his, and Prompto didn't know what to make of it. It wasn't doing much to alleviate the awkwardness, though.

He didn't need to wait for much longer. Apparently, the shield realized that the blond was quickly catching on, and cut to the chase. "How's the arm?"

Blinking and with a slight jolt of surprise, the blue eyes flew to the gauze. For an instant, he almost choked on the words, but gulping a little he got out, "F-fine. It's fine." He internally smacked himself at the sound of his own voice. Sugar-coated with forced cheerfulness. Sounded faulty. His heart beat a bit faster, his palms were sweating. He gulped instinctively as he felt Gladio's studying eyes on himself again, attentive and keen. It was like the shield was a researcher and Prompto was his data. The amber eyes were unreadable as they read him, and Prompto wasn't sure how that was fair. It wasn't.

"Listen, uh…" Gladio started, cutting his gaze to his hands. "Sorry about what I said last night," he said slowly. "It was a pretty low blow."

Prompto didn't realize his mouth had slacked until he snapped it closed. Looking at the shield like the man had just grown a second head, he licked his lips before speaking, "Wait… Are you actually, like, really, apologizing to me?"

Gladio's sincere demeanor was disrupted by a smirk. "Well, we've got a long ride ahead of us. Might as well get along."

It took three heartbeats for the silent stupor to dissolve. "Yeah… yeah, guess we could," Prompto mused, a small smirk on his face. It wasn't the words, but the intention behind them. He knew that Gladio was saying more than he was saying; that excuse of an apology might have been the best the shield would manage, too damn proud to humble himself further, but at least he meant it. It wasn't much, but it did redeem some of Prompto's self-worth to know that Gladio felt guilty. Truthfully, he hadn't been sure that was the case. Not sure at all. "Hey Gladdy?"

"Yeah?" He sounded hesitant, and Prompto blinked a little, momentarily forgetting what he was on about.

"Are we still not alright? The two of us?" Prompto looked him in the eye intently, searching for any indication of dishonesty on the man's taken-aback face.

Apparently the shield caught his gaze, for he swallowed the initial denial that had danced on his tongue before it could have been released. Opening his mouth, the closing it again, the shield weighed on his words before dropping his eyes to the ground and sighing heavily, "I wish I could say yeah to that, Prom. But I can't. Not entirely." The blue eyes slid closed as Prompto nodded deeply, just once.

"I see."

"Sorry. I just… I mean, all this…"

"I know. You don't need to say it," the blond sighed, an edge of sadness in his voice. "I get it that… it's been a lot to take in. But it's been for me, too. I just…" his voice faded as the words left him, escaped into some dimension he couldn't follow them.

He didn't need to. Gladio's deep tone came to his rescue, snapping his eyes back to meet his own, "As long as you're one of us, Prompto, that's all that really matters to me. But I can't just ignore everything that… you know." He held a small pause and sighed, then fixed the blond with a meaningful look. "No use lingering on it, though."

"S-so… what're you sayin'?"

The smirk that spread over Gladio's face was genuine, encouraging. "That we'll find a way."

The tone even more than the words themselves was what made Prompto's heart flutter – with hope. A bubbling feeling rose up his esophagus, consuming and unstoppable, coming out as an awkward half-snort, half-chuckle of relieved disbelief. "Alright." His lips spread into a smirk, "But if you're gonna watch me, I gotta warn you man, you might find out you like what you see." He dared a drowsy wink at the shield, who only smirked smugly in return.

"I'll see about that. Just don't get cocky." He offered the blond a low-five, Prompto returning it a bit sloppily but with a heart-felt grin.

"Will do."

"What will?" Noctis asked as he strolled closer, eyeing them both questioningly like he was expecting an explanation.

"Nothing," Prompto said evadingly.

"Nevermind," Gladio stated with a tone that told Noct to leave it. He pushed himself off the bed and punched the prince on the shoulder lightly, "The breakfast's ready. Get yerselves ready and get goin'." He gave the prince a look before heading out with one last "move yer asses" on the way.

"Yeah, yeah," the prince muttered as he started gathering his clothes. "Prom?"

It was like Prompto had snapped out of it; he looked lost for a moment as his eyes snapped at the prince. "Y-yeah?"

"You still dreamin'? C'mon."

"Y-yeah. Ready in a jiffy."

As they strolled towards Ignis and Gladio's room, escorted by the lingering scents of baking batter and cooking meat caressing their noses, Prompto couldn't hold back a smile. Small and private. Honest. For the first time in a week, he felt closer to whole again. Yes, it was how Gladio had said.

They would find a way.

* * *

END OF PART 2

* * *

 **AN2: Noctis *heart*  
**

 **I honestly don't think I'll ever again be able to listen to that song without thinking Prompto. If only you knew how many times I've listened to that while writing Mind... Well, it's done. I hope you have a cutesey smile on your face right now. If you do, then at least I've done something right. I hope you enjoyed it. Now, I'm gonna go and splash in the puddles, for it has been raining for two days, and the air smells the way I described earlier.**

 **Later, guys! Thanks for staying with me. It means a lot.**

 **The Tool series :**

 **Heart of a Tool (part 1)**

 **Heart of a Tool: End of Days (alternate ending)**

 **Mind of a Tool (part 2)**

 **Life of a Tool (part 3)**


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